Hogwarts: Bloodline Legend

Chapter 963: Chapter 289: Magic Potion and the Disappearing Phoenix (Part 2)

He also remembered that Gryffindors were big mouths.

"Of course, I wouldn’t do that."

Hermione’s lips were pressed into a line. She certainly understood what Snape was worried about—if she returned to Gryffindor Tower, even casually mentioned it in passing.

It wouldn’t take half an hour.

The whole school would know the spectacular story of "Snape being suspended upside-down by a student-like monster and flown back to the castle." Such things were indeed the most common occurrences in Gryffindor College.

No wonder Dumbledore had guarded against her, and now it was Snape’s turn to do the same—there was no helping it; that’s just the reputation she had. Hermione didn’t even know if she could keep her mouth shut.

"I won’t tell, perhaps you can put a Silencing Spell on me, or cast some other magic," she promised quietly, for her knowledge hadn’t yet reached the realm of wizard’s contracts.

"Ha, and then have you report me to the Ministry of Magic? I’m not that dumb," Snape sneered, clearly untrusting, deeply wary of smart students who liked to tattle.

"But staying here doesn’t do me any good either."

Hermione felt utterly helpless.

"Since you can’t leave for a while," Snape, suspended upside-down in midair, spoke slowly, his voice carrying a complicated undertone, "why not learn something useful?"

Hermione froze.

"Learn what?"

Her eyes lit up as she asked.

"I’m the Professor of Potions, so naturally I should teach you potions," Snape pointed to himself with no expression, "Don’t misunderstand that I have a changed view of you."

"You are still an annoying Gryffindor in my heart, but... for Ian’s sake, I will teach you. This is also so I can feel a bit better right now."

Snape seemed to see something else in Hermione and Ian.

Which didn’t exist.

It was just his wishful thinking.

This was why he had recently become increasingly bothered by Aurora—the descendant of Grindelwald, unconsciously being projected into another role in his eyes.

"Is it potions not available in class?"

Hermione was extremely excited.

"You can learn everything in my class, if you don’t learn it’s just because you’re too stupid, now, go bring the crucible over," Snape’s lips curled into a cold smile.

And thus, he began to issue orders.

Thus.

Over the next few hours,

the most absurd lesson in Hogwarts history commenced—a professor dangling upside-down, teaching a student how to use potions so that an upside-down wizard might feel a bit better.

In the dungeon office.

The crucible bubbled and steamed.

The deep green liquid glowed ominously in the firelight.

Snape remained suspended in midair, his black robe hanging, like a giant bat caught, but his wand steadily directed Hermione’s every move.

"Clockwise three times, then counterclockwise half a turn," Snape said coldly, tone still somewhat severe, "One step wrong, and this potion will turn into corrosive gas."

Beads of sweat formed on Hermione’s forehead, her wrist sore from the prolonged stirring, but she dared not stop. Snape’s eyes were glued to her actions, the slightest mistake would provoke a cutting remark.

"Did a giant borrow your wrist?" Snape mocked, "Stir, not smash, your motions are as rough as that damned Hagrid outside the Forbidden Forest."

"Alright, Professor."

Hermione gritted her teeth, trying to make her movements more precise. Time passed, the sky outside had already darkened, and Hermione’s stomach suddenly grumbled in protest.

Snape’s black eyes slowly turned to her.

"Hungry already?"

He asked, with a hint of mockery in his tone.

Hermione nodded awkwardly.

Snape snorted coldly, with a wave of his wand, the bottom drawer of his desk sprang open, and a bag of crumpled cookies flew out, landing in front of Hermione.

"Eat," he said expressionlessly, "an excellent master of potions must learn to combat hunger, some potions take three days and nights to brew, with no time to eat."

He wasn’t exaggerating after all.

Such potions did exist in this world.

"I understand, I’ll specially practice fasting in the future." Hermione picked up a cookie, took a tentative bite, and nearly chipped a tooth.

"Professor, this cookie... is harder than a rock."

Hermione drew in a sharp breath, her front teeth felt almost broken.

"If it’s too hard, don’t eat it. Without enduring hardship, you’ll never become an outstanding master of potions in your life," Snape answered coldly, redirecting his gaze to the crucible.

"Um..."

Hermione stared at the brick-like cookie, suddenly struck by inspiration.

She quietly took a small bottle of honey water extract and a few softening herbs from the potion materials shelf, lightly tapped them with her wand, and mixed them together, then dripped it on the cookie.

A few seconds later, the cookie became soft, even emitting a slight fragrance.

Snape’s peripheral vision caught this, his brow raised slightly.

"...Not too stupid," he finally remarked, his tone unusually lacking in sarcasm, "At least you know how to use potion materials to solve practical problems."

Hermione couldn’t help but lift the corners of her mouth, just about to respond—

Knock knock knock!

The office door was suddenly knocked.

Snape’s body stiffened, Hermione held her breath instantly.

"Severus?" Professor McGonagall’s stern voice called from outside, "Are you in there?"

Snape’s face visibly darkened.

He quickly extinguished the chandelier above, with a wave of his wand, the entire office was plunged into dimness, creating a sickly, unfit-for-visitors atmosphere.

"Minerva,"

he lowered his voice, deliberately making it sound hoarse, "I’m... not fit to see anyone right now."

Hermione’s eyes widened—Snape was feigning illness?!

Outside the door, Professor McGonagall seemed to hesitate for a moment: "You’re ill?"

"A mishap during a potion experiment," Snape continued in a weak tone, "the fumes affected my appearance."

Hermione almost couldn’t hold back her laughter, quickly covering her mouth.

"You shouldn’t make such basic mistakes," Professor McGonagall seemed puzzled, but after a few silent seconds, she sighed and got to the point.

"Albus’s phoenix is missing."

The professor’s tone was serious.

Snape, of course, knew what this meant.

"...That bird frequently goes missing."

He deliberately acted unconcerned.

"But this time is different," Professor McGonagall’s voice betrayed her concern, "It vanished right in front of me, in a hurry, I don’t know what’s happened."

At this,

Snape’s brow furrowed faintly, but he quickly regained his composure.

"I’m brewing an extremely dangerous potion, can’t be disturbed," he continued weakly, "Once it’s done, I’ll come find you."

There was a few seconds of silence from outside the door.

"Why did I just hear a little wizard’s voice?" Professor McGonagall suddenly asked.

Hermione’s heart raced.

Snape remained unfazed.

"I caught a student to run errands, isn’t that normal?"

He answered with utmost honesty.

Professor McGonagall seemed to ponder for a moment.

"There’s nothing wrong with that."

She didn’t seem suspicious, perhaps this too was about reputation.

The sound of footsteps gradually faded away.

Snape breathed a sigh of relief.

"Professor,"

Hermione said quietly, "You seem rather practiced at pretending to be sick..."

She tested carefully.

Snape coldly glared at this first-year student.

"Shut up, Granger."

Hermione pursed her lips, suddenly thinking of something, couldn’t help but smile: "If Ian were here, he’d surely say—what Professor McGonagall heard wasn’t me, but the potion screaming."

Snape’s mouth twitched, as if he wanted to reprimand her, but also seemed like... he almost broke character. In the end, he merely scowled as he waved his wand to relight the flame under the crucible.

"Continue brewing."

He said coldly.

"If you talk too much, I’ll let you hear what the real scream of a potion sounds like." This was a harsh threat, Hermione quickly bowed her head to stir, indeed startled.

The lesson of the dangling man continued.